Not so Different, You and I
by Sheyrena Wyrsabane
Summary: Bruce and Loki both have self-esteem and self-worth issues. Misery loves company, and what better way to begin to heal then to work together. Bruce/Loki angst and eventual friendship.


A/N: This was written for a prompt at avengerkink, and I cannot thank the prompter enough for opening my eyes to the similarities between these two, and the possibility that together they could at least begin to heal.

Bruce sat down in one of the stools at Tony's bar and stared at the bottles of liquor out of his reach. He could easily stand up and take something, but he had strict orders from his psychiatrist not to do anything that could make him lose control. He was positive that drinking fell under that category.

So instead he crossed his arms on the bar counter and rested his chin on them so he could stare at what he couldn't have. It was an exercise in self-control, and if it went well, he could tell Dr. Dimwit tomorrow.

A slight pop jolted Bruce out of his thoughts and suddenly Loki was standing on the other side of the bar, a pleased smiling curving his lips. Ever since Loki had become one of the Avengers, he had sworn off major mischief which meant he took pleasure in the little things, like startling his new teammates.

There were few things more disconcerting than seeing Loki stare back at you through your mirror only to turn around and find your room empty. Seeing the Hulk reflected in Bruce's eyes was one of those things that was worse.

Loki tapped the bar counter, calling Bruce's attention back to him. "What can I get for you?" Loki asked.

"You're not actually a bartender," Bruce said. "And I don't want anything to drink."

"That's a lie," Loki said, and Bruce remembered why he avoided the god's presence. Not only had he still not quite gotten over the whole attempt to take over the world thing, but Loki could sense lies. It made him an incredibly frustrating person to talk to.

"Fine," Bruce said, forcing a smile. "I'm not allowed to have anything to drink."

"That's better," Loki said, giving Bruce an indulgent smile that made Bruce want to hit him. "And who says I can't be a bartender?"

Loki frowned and in a moment he was wearing a pair of black slacks and a white button up shirt complete with a bowtie and a towel hanging over his forearm. "Better?"

Bruce shook his head at the waste of magic. He supposed changing outfits was better than the time that Loki got bored and charmed all the mugs in the house to turn any liquid inside of them into ice. Tony had been a real joy that morning when he couldn't get his wake-up coffee.

"Don't you have something better to do than play dress up?" Bruce asked.

Loki leaned on the counter, his face closer to Bruce's than Bruce was comfortable with. "Don't you have something better to do than mope at an empty bar? Especially when you can't even drink?"

Loki quirked an eyebrow before turning to pour himself a glass of amber colored liquid, aware of the way Bruce's eyes followed his movements. He kept his eyes open as he took a small sip, watching Bruce watch him, the stark need in Bruce's eyes almost too much.

"Why the self-torture?" Loki asked, setting his glass down in easy reach. Bruce's eyes darted toward the tumbler before he shook himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Loki tsked, and if there was a more aggravating sound on the planet, Bruce hadn't heard it yet. "Lying again. Don't worry, I don't take it personally, I realize that it's a lingering habit, but aren't you supposed to tell the truth now that you're one of the heroes?"

Bruce laughed, short and self-deprecatingly. "I wouldn't exactly list myself as one of the heroes."

"No?" Loki asked, trying to keep the interest out of his voice. He recognized when someone was about to divulge something secret, something they wanted to keep hidden but needed to say, and he knew how easy it was to break the magic of confession.

"I have no control," Bruce said. "I could just as easily kill my teammates as my enemies. That's not very heroic of me."

"Have you ever seen Thor throw a temper tantrum?" Loki asked. "There isn't much control there either, and he always manages to do an impressive amount of property damage. Plus, it isn't very becoming of a god to act like a small child."

Bruce's smile was fleeting, but Loki counted it as a victory. He wasn't even sure why he wanted the man to smile except that in his tweed jacket that was a size too big, with its sleeves beginning to fray he looked vulnerable and in desperate need of a smile.

Loki had seen the Hulk, had been at the receiving end of the Hulk's size and strength, he would never forget the feeling of being tossed around like a rag doll, but it was hard for him to remember that such raw power came out of the man sitting before him. Bruce Banner held his arms tight to his sides, kept his gaze down, and Loki bet that underneath the bar, his legs were pressed together as he tried to take up as little space as possible.

It was easy to hide in Stark Tower, and not only because it was larger than it ever needed to be. They lived with some of the biggest personalities in the world; Thor whose very presence commanded the attention of a whole room and Tony Stark who had a rare talent of getting on everyone's nerves. Even Steve filled a room when he entered with his single-minded determination to make sure that everything was right even if it was just the setting on the toaster.

Loki was no stranger to being forced to the shadows of those greater than, brighter than him, and he responded the way he always did, with aggravating pranks and mischief that forced people to pay attention to him. Bruce, however, tried to stay in the shadows, tried to keep himself hidden. At first, Loki had thought the man liked his solitude, he was a genius after all, but he was starting to suspect it was something different. Shame, perhaps.

"So, let's start with the easy questions," Loki said, picking up his glass and swirling the contents with his finger. He licked the digit clean before turning back to Bruce. "Why can't you drink?"

"Aren't bartenders supposed to listen and not talk?" Bruce asked wishing he'd been left to his misery.

Loki grinned, a sharp smile that reminded him of Loki's earlier days. It was the kind of smile someone wore when you'd stepped into a carefully planned trap. Loki leaned on the counter again, making himself comfortable.

"Talk then," Loki said. "I'll listen."

Yep, Bruce thought, he'd definitely walked straight into that one. He had no idea what the god was up to, no one understood Loki's mind, and it was Bruce's personal opinion that not even Loki always understood what was going on up there. They weren't enemies anymore, but they certainly weren't friends. There was a deeper trap being set, and Bruce wasn't sure he was willing to walk into it.

He looked back at Loki who said nothing. He didn't even tap his fingertips even though patience wasn't a virtue Bruce associated with his companion. Then again, Loki was immortal. Bruce wasn't sure he'd win the waiting game if they started playing.

"Dr. Dim-Dr. Ganeson told me I couldn't," Bruce said, figuring it couldn't hurt to answer a couple questions. Besides, Bruce was supposed to be one of the smartest men in the world. Maybe he'd be able to figure out Loki's play.

"Ah, the head doctor," Loki said, waving a dismissive hand. "They tried to get me to speak to him. Why won't he let you drink?"

"He thinks I have control issues and that alcohol won't help. Wait a second, how did you get out of seeing him?"

Loki's smile was smug at first, but it faltered after only a moment. "They didn't think it was worth it. I'm working with you to pay off my debt, and then they don't care what happens to me. I guess fixing me was too much work for not enough payoff."

"You need to be fixed?" Bruce asked before he could help it. Since when did he care about Loki, he wondered, as the god's dark eyes snapped to his. They were guarded, as usual, but there was a glimmer of something in them that Bruce was afraid to name.

"Don't we all?" Loki asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Realizing what he'd said, Loki abruptly straightened, knocking his glass over. He mopped at the spilled liquid with his towel, avoiding Bruce's eyes.

"I guess I'm a bad bartender after all," he said, snapping his fingers and disappearing, leaving Bruce alone to wonder what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Bruce didn't have much time to think about the conversation he and Loki had had over the next few days. Dr. Dimwit had suggested a new set of exercises that were supposed to work on Bruce's mental toughness. Instead of helping, they made Bruce's control even more tenuous.

He started working down in the basement where Tony had made a cell that would contain the Hulk when Bruce lost control. He was supposed to working on his control of his emotions, but every time that control slipped he got frustrated, and after nearly an hour his frustration was so high, he could feel the Hunk straining to escape.

"Figures," Bruce muttered to himself, fighting his body's urge to clench his hands into fists. He needed to relax. Brute strength wasn't the way to combat the Hulk.

"What figures?"

Bruce's eyes snapped open to see Loki standing outside his prison, and even though Bruce knew he put himself here, and that he could leave whenever he wanted, his first reaction was still to panic. He could feel his muscles straining as adrenaline rushed through his body, calling to the Hulk. He tried to force the transformation down. He didn't need help; he didn't need to be rescued. Loki was on their side now. Bruce had nothing to fear.

Loki paced in front of the glass, and Bruce couldn't tell if he was aware of what he was doing to Bruce. There was no smirk tugging at his lips, no smugness in his eyes that suggested he was trying to bring the Hulk out for his own amusement, but Loki made Natasha look like a beginner at deception.

"I'm supposed to be working on control," Bruce said, deciding that rational thought was the key to staying in control. If he could concentrate on the sound of his own voice, of forming thoughts then he could keep the Hulk at bay. "And the exercises are frustrating which is bringing the Hulk closer to the surface. It is ironic."

Bruce's lips twisted into a smile. "Something I know much about."

"Oh?" Loki asked, sensing a story behind his words. He didn't know what had drawn him to Bruce the night at the bar, and he didn't know what had drawn him here now, but he had learned over the years to follow his instincts so here he was again.

"You didn't hear how I got like this?" Bruce asked, shaking his head as he retreated to the center of his cage. "I was a genius but that wasn't enough for me."

There was a hint of untruth in his words, and Loki made a small sound, instinctual, before he could help it. Bruce heard it, even through the glass, and he spun around, a flash of green in his eyes.

"What? You're going to call me out again or are you too scared?" Muscles rippled under his skin, splitting the seams in Bruce's shirt. "Don't worry, the walls will protect you."

"It is your story," Loki said. "Tell it as you see fit."

"I didn't lie," Bruce said. "I just didn't tell you the full truth. It wasn't enough for me, because it wasn't enough for my father. He was a genius too, you know, an astrophysicist. What did the family need with two geniuses?"

Bruce started pacing, trying to work off some of the energy building inside of him. "He loved watching rugby, the way men would rush at each other without any protection. He called it a true display of physical prowess. That was something I lacked.

"I was your typical nerdy kid, scrawny and weak. Maybe it was another side effect of the radiation. Anyways, I remember that on my tenth birthday my dad took away my Einstein poster and gave me one of Captain America. A real hero, he told me. He was impossibly muscled which I know now, but I didn't fully understand then. All I knew was that this was who I was supposed to be."

Loki could sympathize. How old was he when he realized that Thor was the favored child? How many years after that did he realize that he'd never be able to compete? Thor was bulk and hard muscle where Loki was lean and sinewy, and Loki had been reminded at every turn which qualities were more favored in Asgard.

"I spent years researching the serum. At one point my father died, but his death only made me try harder. I finally thought I'd unlocked the secret, and, well, you know what happened next."

Loki shook his head. "I don't believe I do."

Bruce turned to him, pain clearly etched across his face. "I became this. The gamma radiation didn't make me into a super soldier; it made me into a monster. That's the irony of it all. I brought this on myself, and now I can't control it. I guess it's what I get for trying to be more than I was supposed to be."

Loki reflected on the consequences of his own grab for power. He had almost lost his father in the process of taking Thor's throne, and he had willingly ordered the execution of his brother in order to keep Asgard his. Did he learn from his lesson when Thor appeared to take back was had been given to him?

Of course not. Instead, he sought to conquer Earth, and he was defeated once again. Now he was a part of the Avengers, forced to be a member of a team in order to pay penance, and perhaps even learn a lesson. Loki wasn't meant to rule. He wasn't meant for greatness. He was meant to be back-up, to work in the shadows and watch the recognition go to those worthier than him.

"You're not a monster," Loki finally said.

"Oh yeah?" Bruce laughed and motioned to Loki with his hands. "Then why are you hiding behind indestructible walls? You're waiting for me to blow, just like everyone else."

"You think I am afraid?" Loki asked and a moment later he was in the cell with Bruce, one hand on Bruce's hip, the other on his shoulder, closer than Bruce ever wanted the god to be. "What about now?" Loki asked, feeling the Hulk's surge under Bruce's skin. "Do you still think I'm afraid?"

"You'd be crazy not to be," Bruce said, his voice low, matching Loki's, as if he was afraid that talking too loudly would wake the Hulk up.

"No one has ever accused me of being sane," Loki said, a smile twisting his lips. He dropped his hand to stroke Bruce's arm, bare from where his shirt had fallen away. "What's it like, feeling him beneath the surface?"

Bruce watched Loki's fingers, memorized as the long digits danced up and down his arm. He had expected the Hulk to give a final push and explode out of him; instead, he quieted, like a cat allowing itself to be pacified.

"Terrifying," Bruce admitted, his eyes not leaving the hypnotic movement of Loki's fingers. "Knowing that there is something so powerful inside of me that I can't control," he paused, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat, "the lack of control, the domination of primal emotions is one of the greatest fears of the rational mind."

He abruptly pulled back, knowing that he'd just made a mistake. Admitting his greatest fear to Loki of all people had been stupid.

"Control is very important to you," Loki said, not moving from where Bruce had left him, knowing that he was pushing Bruce's limits, and the wrong word could bring the Hulk out. Loki knew that he could survive the Hulk, he had done it before, but it had been incredibly painful, and he wasn't looking for a repeat experience.

Bruce surprised him by laughing. "Rich coming from you. You with your mind controlling scepter who wanted nothing more than the Earth to kneel at your feet."

Loki couldn't deny it so he gave a small bow, acknowledging the accusation. "I never said I was perfect."

"No, that's Steve's job," Bruce said, pleased when he got a small smile out of Loki. "So, I have control issues because I have a green beast inside of me. Where'd you get yours from?"

Loki tried to shrug off the question. "I don't believe we have enough time to rehash the childhood of an immortal."

Bruce grinned and leaned against the far wall of the cell. "Well, the door will only open at my command, and you can't use your magic in here which means we have as much times as I say we do."

"Devious," Loki said, but there was no anger in his voice, perhaps even a hint of respect.

It was Bruce's turn to shrug. "Figure fair's fair. I spilled my secrets to you. Now it's your turn."

"Thor was always meant to be king," Loki began, "it simply took me a long time to realize it. I had the mistaken notion that if I worked harder, did everything better, found a way to prove myself, that father would pick me over Thor. When I realized that nothing would ever be enough, that my fate as you humans refer to it as was sealed, I did not react well."

That was an understatement, Bruce thought.

"I didn't want to be what I was born to be," Loki said, his eyes flicking over to Bruce, the similarity in their situations making Bruce look away. He didn't want to have anything in common with Loki.

"I've learned, through great difficulty and personal injury, that I have no choice."

"Maybe this is what we were born to be," Bruce said.

Loki scoffed. "Moments ago you were telling me that you thought yourself a monster. Now you believe you were born to become one? Where did this change of heart come from?"

Bruce felt the prickling of anger on the back of his neck. "I was trying to make things seem better. I'm sorry."

"Nothing will make things better," Loki said, taking a menacing step closer. "Isn't that what you were just telling me? Your silly exercises are doing more harm than good. I sought to escape the rule of my father and my brother, and only managed to find myself with new rulers. Do things seem better to you?"

Bruce knew that Loki was frustrated and that was why his voice was raising, and why his body was rigid with anger, but the Hulk only saw him as a threat, and he wanted to come out and protect Bruce. He tried to fight it, tried to think of calming thoughts, but his vision was starting to go green, a sure sign that things were getting out of hand.

"Get out of here," he rasped, falling to his knees. "JARVIS, let Loki out. Please."

The last word was a growl, ripped from Bruce's throat as his body began to shift. Loki didn't hesitate, sprinting through the door as soon as it opened. The Hulk, sensing that its prey was getting away, charged after him, only to run headfirst into the now closed door. It howled and beat on the walls, but they only trembled under its touch.

Loki touched his fingers to the glass where the Hulk beat its fists, a deep sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, before leaving the room.

* * *

The other Avengers had gone to a publicity conference, leaving Loki alone in the Tower. His presence was still kept a secret under the belief that the world population would be less forgiving or less pragmatic than Fury had been in regards to Loki joining the Avengers.

He had spent the first part of the night shrinking all of Thor's clothes so they would rip when he tried to put them on the next morning, but it didn't calm his thoughts the way he'd expected it to. Instead, he found himself standing in front of Thor's mirror, one of Thor's extra capes secured around his neck.

It looked ridiculous on him, too big, the fabric weighing down his arms, making him feel restricted. Also, red was a horrible color on him. He didn't have the bronzed skin and golden hair to make it work. He touched his lips, too thin, and then his cheekbones, too sharp, and dropped his hand in disgust.

He didn't look like most Asgardians, and perhaps that should've been his first clue that not everything was right with him. He had been different before he'd known he was different, but it had been a mild annoyance, and then a sick pleasure.

He knew that he wasn't classically attractive, but he had the makings of someone attractive in a dark, sinister way. He'd started slicking his hair back and working on his captivating stare in the mirror. His lips, too thin to be pleasant when he smiled, curved nicely into a smirk or a sharp grin that did little to put people at ease. He became darkness to match Thor's light, and no one acted surprised. It was as if they had been waiting for him to fall into his position, to become the younger brother that served to enhance the older.

Only, brother was the wrong term. He wasn't Thor's brother, no matter how often Thor used the enderarment. He was the son of parents who abandoned him, but even worse, he was the son of Jotun.

Loki's skin flickered blue in the mirror, his eyes bleeding red, and he stared himself down. This was what he was, finally the true opposite of Thor. He was ice where Thor was fire, coldness where Thor was warmth, alien where Thor was home. He was the false son, the deceiver. Thor was the true son of Asgard, the rightful king.

Loki ripped the cape off his shoulders, and punched the mirror, the shards reflecting his Jotun self as they fell to the ground.

"I knew leaving you alone was a bad idea," Bruce said from Thor's doorway.

Loki slowly turned, his body tight with rage, to the unwelcome intrusion. "I'm surprised you're not celebrating with the rest of them."

"Are you?" Bruce asked. "You know how I feel about myself. I don't make people feel safe the way they do. Besides, I can't toss a shield or throw a hammer and get applause. I show off my superpowers and people start running."

"We are always hiding," Loki said, staring at the broken fragments of Thor's mirror. "Even from ourselves."

"How can we expect them to accept us if we don't accept ourselves?" Bruce asked, stepping further into the room.

"Is that another inspiring tidbit from your head doctor?"

"Please," Bruce said. "I'm smarter than he could ever hope to be. I've been doing some thinking lately. We are this way, because we weren't satisfied with ourselves, because we let others dictate how our lives should go, and we've learned nothing. We're still trying to conform, to fit in, to prove that we're something we're not."

Loki's eyes flashed red, and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "You think I brought this upon myself?" He raised a blue skinned arm. "I had no control over this."

"But you have control over how you react to it," Bruce said. "Don't you see, we can change things. We can reclaim power."

Power. The word raised shivers down Loki's spine. Power was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place, but he had never stopped craving it, never stopped needing it. He turned his hand face up, a small piece of ice forming in his palm.

"I am a disgrace like this," he said. "I is a reminder that I'm unwanted, by my rightful parents and my adoptive ones. You called yourself a monster that night at the bar, but I am the true monster."

Bruce's hand was warm on Loki's arm, warm and unexpected. Loki started to jerk back, but Bruce closed his hand around Loki's arm, holding him in place.

"You're not a monster," he said, raising a hand to trace the scars on Loki's forehead, and Loki's eyes fluttered shut, welcoming the touch. "Neither us are. We're simply different."

Loki laughed as he pulled away, and this time Bruce let him. "Different? Different might not make us monsters, but it still makes them hate us."

"Then we'll have to convince them to see things a different way," Bruce said. "Though first we have to convince ourselves."

He held a hand out to Loki, and Loki stared at it for a long moment. The last time someone had reached a hand out to him, it had been Thor, and they had been dangling over the Bifrost bridge. Loki had let go. He had thought he wasn't wanted, and he still thought that, but he no longer thought he could do everything on his own.

His hand slowly reached out toward Bruce, their fingertips brushing. It was when he found himself the most alone that he made his worst decisions. His decision to take Thor's throne, to let go of Thor's hand, to accept the help of the Other in taking over Earth. He had always been alone, because no one had wanted him. Perhaps this was a chance to change that.

His fingers slid along Bruce's palm until he clasped Bruce's hand in a firm grip.

"So genius," Loki drawled, trying to hide the tremor in his hand and his voice. "How do you propose we begin?"

Bruce's free hand cupped Loki's cheek, his thumb running over smooth blue skin. "By accepting that this is who you are."

"And you?" Loki asked, even as he turned his face into the touch. He had never seen someone reach toward a Jotun. Ever since he was a boy he could remember Thor preparing to wage war against them. Even Loki wanted to wipe them off the universe, and his desire had only increased once he realized he was one of them. "Are you going to start walking around as the green man?"

"I've been trying so hard to control him, to bend him to my will, but what if he dislikes control as much as I do? What if he keeps breaking free to prove that he can, that he can't be subdued? Maybe what I need to do is learn to accept him instead of control him."

Bruce was talking more to himself than Loki, thinking through the problem. Loki watched him, not wanting to draw out their almost-embrace and fascinated by the way Bruce's mind worked. As he mused on the last point, Loki watched as Bruce's eyes bled to green, but his touch was no less gentle.

A smile graced Loki's lips and his fingertips touched the rings under Bruce's left eye. "I think you might be onto something."

Bruce frowned. "What happened?"

Loki reluctantly broke their touch to reach down and pick up a shard of mirror. He held it in front of Bruce's face, the man's lips parting into a small 'o' when he saw his eyes.

"He's here," Bruce breathed, touching the green irises in the mirror. "He's here with me, but I'm still me."

A wonder-filled smile dominated his features, and he looked up at Loki, a fragile bubble of hope in his eyes.

"Why do you have doubt?" Loki asked. "Your mind is unparalleled, of course you would find the solution."

"No," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Not solution. Solution implies problem. The Hulk, your Jotun self, they're not problems. They're us." He grasped Loki's arms the way Thor would grasp the Warrior Three's, a sign of friendship.

* * *

The six original Avengers were sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch when Nicky Fury interrupted. Thor waved, unable to speak through the sandwich bulging his cheeks, but the rest of them eyed him warily.

As Fury's gaze swept the room, Bruce quickly dropped his eyes to his sandwich. So far, no one had commented on the new shade of his eyes, but he didn't think the small detail would escape Fury's notice. It was a sign of weakness that he hid himself, though at least he didn't ask the Hulk to retreat further into his head.

The thought did pass through his head, but then Loki appeared in his head, scornful, betrayed. They had made a pact to embrace themselves, and at the first sign of trouble, Bruce wanted to run. He needed to be stronger than this, he was stronger than this.

He raised his eyes to Fury, confident, and Fury's good eyebrow went up.

"I suppose this explains why you've been neglecting your therapy sessions," Fury said.

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked, craning his neck so he could look around and see what all the fuss was about. Bruce didn't look any different than usual. Well, he looked a little less stressed, and he was a little less bumbling doctor now that he'd lost his glasses and—wait, what had happened to his eyes?

"Please tell me this is a recent development," Tony said.

Bruce grinned, relaxing now that no one had rushed him or tried to shoot him or had a complete freak out. "Sorry, your observation skills are lacking. The big guy and I have been on good terms for about a week now."

"The big guy?" Tony asked, obviously having taken the comment about his observation skills as a challenge to notice every tiny detail. "What happened to the other guy?"

"He's not other anymore."

Bruce managed to stun the entire table into silence. Fury was the first to recover, but Bruce hadn't expected anything else.

"I don't suppose this was Ganeson's doing."

Bruce snorted. "Please. He wanted to cage the Hulk. I've let him go."

"Have you transformed since coming to this," Fury paused, "revelation?"

Bruce nodded. He and Loki had started spending several hours a day down in the basement, embracing their other halves. Just yesterday, Bruce had transformed outside the cell for the first time at Loki's insistence. It was Loki's complete trust in him that gave Bruce the strength to try, and he suspected it was the same reason he hadn't gone on a destructive rampage.

"I'm more present," Bruce said. "Our communication still isn't 100%, but I'm working on it."

"Alone?" Fury asked.

Bruce hesitated, unsure if Loki wanted to be brought into this conversation or not. They didn't talk extensively about the reactions of the others during their time together; in fact, they tried to avoid it. They were striving to accept themselves first, without a care for how the others would feel.

Bruce, of course, had his fantasies at how the big reveal would play out, and he was sure that Loki had them too. They wanted, above all, to be accepted, and as much as he talked about self-acceptance, about focusing inward, he wanted the acceptance of his fellow Avengers.

Loki wandered into the kitchen, sparing Bruce from having to answer, pausing when he realized that the room was silent.

"Did I interrupt something?" he asked.

Thor frowned, his eyes honing in on Loki's forehead. "Did you injure yourself?"

Loki touched his forehead, his face going slack when he felt the ridges of scar tissue. He'd remembered not to walk into the room blue, but he hadn't returned himself completely to normal. No, he corrected, hearing Bruce's voice in his head. Blue was normal. He hadn't hidden himself completely, but why should he hide at all?

With only a brief glance at the top of Bruce's head, Loki let his human form give way to his Jotun form. Thor drew in a sharp breath, and he didn't look away fast enough to hide his disgust. Loki brushed aside the brief jolt of pain, and held his head higher, defiance in the set of his jaw.

"Ah," Fury said. "I see now."

"I'm still confused," Steve said, looking around the table. "Why is Loki blue?"

"This is my true form," Loki said. "Do you have a problem with it?"

Steve shook his head at the hostile tone in Loki's voice. "I'm glad you're getting more comfortable around us. Trust is necessary for team unity."

Loki fought his urge to roll his eyes. If Steve could accept Loki being Jotun, then Loki could accept Steve's perfection and need for team play.

"You trust him?" Clint asked, motioning to Loki.

Steve hesitated, never having considered the question before, but Bruce answered in an instant. "Yes."

"He has mind control powers," Clint said, as if anyone needed the reminder.

Loki stiffened at the deserved comment, but once again, Bruce stood up to defend him.

"He didn't use them against me. The big guy wouldn't have let him."

"You're seriously telling us that Loki's changed?" Natasha asked like Loki wasn't standing in the room listening to the whole conversation.

A smile none of the Avengers understood tugged at Bruce's lips. "No, he hasn't changed. He's embraced who he is. We both have."

He turned to smile at Loki, and the god put his hand on Bruce's shoulder, grateful. Bruce's hand came up to cover Loki's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. This wasn't the coming out they had expected with the open arms and the tears and the hugs and the complete acceptance, but it wasn't a full out rejection, and they had plenty of time to convince the rest of the Avengers to come around to the new presentations of themselves.


End file.
